


Soulmates

by Wolf_dog



Series: My Prompts [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:01:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_dog/pseuds/Wolf_dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a collection of my prompts for roleplaying. If you are interested in one, please message me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1- Human Mark

John had always wanted to meet his soulmate. In the world he lived in, everyone had a soulmate and a Mark. Everybody’s Mark was different and unique. Marks were in different places for everybody, and no two marks ever matched up. People’s Marks lead them to their soulmate, gave them hints (whether they were straight out with a name or address, or cryptic such as a particular place they would meet). John’s hint had been cryptic, but more so than most. His read ‘A bit Not Good?’ in dark, bold letters in a messy scrawl. It had appeared when he was five on the underside of his forearm, and he had been memorising each line and curve since then, and trying to work out what it meant whilst hiding it from everybody else. When he was in his late teens, and still no sign of his soulmate, he gave up and tried to convince himself that he just didn’t care. So, he signed up for the army and went off to Afghanistan. He got shot, returned to London and moved in with the handsome consulting detective called Sherlock Holmes. He was inexplicably attracted to him, and tried to hide it, but didn’t date anyone else.

 

Then, one day, months later, he was cleaning up Sherlock’s notes, when the handwriting struck him. Sure, he’d seen Sherlock’s handwriting before, but that was neat, bold and careful so that John could read it (such things as ‘eyeballs. Do not chuck away’ and ‘not chicken eggs. Do not eat, John.’). But this was different – this was the messy scrawl that people used when they expected to be the only person to read it. Frozen, he’d held out his arm and compared the writing on his arm to the writing on the paper. Identical. Sherlock was his soulmate. He tried hard not to show how much this affect him, and went on with their dangerous lifestyle. And so what if he was a little more possessive, or if he lingered to long near Sherlock.

 

A few weeks after that, Sherlock had went off on his own to solve a case far away a few days ago (he’d left suddenly, but had texted John, so he didn’t worry). John wandered down into the kitchen, eyes blurry with sleep and wearing naught but his sleeping pants. He walked past Sherlock’s form on his usual seat, rubbing his eyes with his arm with the mark on it, and went into the kitchen to make himself some tea, not realising that his mark was fully visible for Sherlock to see.


	2. 2 - Mark Sherlock Supernatural

John had always known about soulmates – it was just the kind of world that he lived in. Everybody had a soulmate. Everybody had a mark – and it was always unique so it could never be mistaken. Everybody’s mark comes at a different time and in different places, and their mark will _always_ lead them to their soulmate. Some people’s marks were something as simple as their soulmate’s name, others were much more cryptic. John was one of those unlucky people who had a cryptic mark. His mark was written in an almost unreadable scrawl, taking up his whole forearm in a few lines. It read ‘If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, do we not … revenge?’ It had appeared on John’s arm when he was ten, and since then he had been covering it up – marks were secret things – and trying to work out its meaning. He could only gather a few things from it. First, that his soulmate wasn’t exactly … _human_. Second, that his soulmate was possessive (or, so it seemed to John). And quite possibly as cryptic as his mark. He had memorised every line, ever curve of the writing. John searched for his soulmate at every chance he got. When he moved in with Sherlock Holmes, he figured there was no way, so he didn’t try to find out if their marks were for each other. How could someone as brilliant as Sherlock Holmes be the soulmate of boring old John Watson? But, then he had seen one a page of Sherlock’s notes, scrawled in a familiar hand. His heart had practically stopped for a few moments as he tried to breathe again. _Sherlock_ was his soulmate. But that meant … that Sherlock wasn’t _human_. Ever since that discovery, he had found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with his soulmate, but trying hard to hide it from the man(?).

 

Then, one day, as John was coming out of the shower, completely convinced that Sherlock was out doing one of his crazy experiments, only a towel around his waist, he was surprised to find Sherlock in the hallway. Damn. He had nothing to hide his arm with. Stupid, stupid John. He should have been prepared for a possibility like this. “Sh-Sherlock,” he stuttered in surprise, trying to casually get his arm with the mark out of Sherlock’s view, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t want to burden Sherlock with being his soulmate. As much as he would love for his affections for Sherlock to be returned, he thought that there was no chance, and didn’t want to face rejection from the only person he would ever love this deeply, so he had to content himself with just staying friends. That had to be good enough for him.


	3. 3 - Werewolf soulmates

John growled slightly, tugging at the collar around his neck. It had a leash built into it, and it was currently being held by a stern-looking security guard. He’d been picked as a ‘Chosen One’ about three months back by these crazy werewolves. They believed that everyone had a soulmate, and only a few humans were ‘lucky’ enough to be one for a werewolf. They had insisted that John was a ‘Chosen One’ and had kidnapped him and put him in this stupid club for werewolves to see if he was their other half. Thankfully, none had picked him as ‘theirs’. Other ‘Chosen Ones’ had gone willingly, and hadn’t tried to escape like John had (multiple times) and so he was the only one on a damn leash. The dim light of the club made it hard to see anything, but the regular flashing lights sweeping the occupants did make it slightly easier for his human eyes. He caught sight of a tall figure making its way towards him, and scowled. Not another bloody werewolf. He was so sick of this place (even if he _was_ curious about the figure for some reason), and just wanted out.


	4. 4 - Teen Soulmates

John lived in a world of soulmates and Marks. Marks appeared usually around birth, but it wasn’t uncommon for it to come later. Everyone had a soulmate, and everyone had a Mark. Marks could be very simple (such as a name) or cryptic (such as a certain object or turn of events that led people to their soulmates). John Watson’s mark appeared when he was two. His mark was cryptic. He spent years trying to figure it out. It read, in a scrawly, yet elegant, handwriting, ‘Bit Not Good?’ on the inside of his right wrist. It was two lines in total, but large enough for him to read it clearly. He had no idea what it meant, and hoped that his soulmate wasn’t as cryptic as his Mark.

 

By 17 years of age, John wondered if he’d ever figure out what his Mark meant. Most likely not, he thought with a sigh as he sat down at lunch under a tree, by himself. His gaze strayed around the field in front of him, ignoring his rumbling stomach. His family was too poor, and his father too abusive to let him get any food today. He hadn’t had a proper meal in over a year, and hadn’t had food in general since the day before yesterday. He was used to it though, so it was easy enough to ignore the pain that gnawed at his insides. With his back pressing against the tree, wincing slightly as it hit the bruises his father had left on his back but ignored the pain, and tugged down his long-sleeved school shirt, and traced the lettering with his left hand. He knew every curve, every space, every line of the writing, but he was still no closer to finding his soulmate or figuring out the message.  He didn’t have any friends at this school. He was bullied because he was a ‘loner’, but thankfully they hadn’t come after him today. Sighing, his fingers tapped against his mark, wishing desperately he could find his mate. He was so deprived of love, if only just /one/ person could love him, then he would be happy.


	5. 5 - Werelock Soulmates

No! He would _not_ give in! He couldn’t. Letting _it_ out again would only cause trouble. Sherlock (17) knew that. But, the full moon was rising, and he needed to get out. Get out of the city; get out of this damned house! Neither his parents nor his brother knew about Sherlock’s … condition. He was sure that they had noticed his absences, but he didn’t think that they cared enough to think more of it. Already, he could feel the beast in him rising from its carefully controlled cage as it demanded to be free and run wild as the moon rose, calling to him. Panting harshly, Sherlock had nearly run out of time. It really was time he got out of his parent’s house and went out on his own, he knew that. It would be easier to disappear if didn’t have to worry about anyone noticing. Racing through his house and down the stairs, he finally made it outside, the cool air feeling amazing on his heated skin. He started running, his long legs helping him in getting away quickly. He only had a matter of minutes before he would have to give himself over to the beast. Hopefully, he could get away before that. He had made it to the outskirts of town before he had to stop, his body folding in on itself as he transformed. After a minute, he shook out his pitch-black fur and looked around. He knew he was above the normal height of wolves (and he was proud to say by quite a bit, too), but he was always careful to not go near civilisation while he was like this. Trotting along, much calmer now that the transformation had taken place, he paused at the edge of the woods when he caught a scent. It smelt … delicious. Like, pine and musk and … /earthy/. Turning his head, eyes half-closed, he followed it, keeping low to the ground (even though it was hard to see him with his coat blending in so well). He stopped at the reached near the end of the trail, the scent growing in strength. Peering over a bush, Sherlock caught sight of a group of teens (older than he was, by the looks of it), sitting around a campfire and laughing. Looking around, he caught sight of a sturdily built teen, and pricked his ears with interest. He didn’t look all that bad… Rather handsome, in fact. Taking a deep breath, Sherlock sorted through the scents, and found the earthy scent again. Yes, it connected to the blonde boy. Brilliant. Sherlock suddenly had the urge to go over to him, but he didn’t want to frighten him, so he just had to stay where he was (at least until he could get the boy alone) and watch.


End file.
